‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. She stood up before him, smiling faintly. She had eaten them. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. Buck up.
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